


Broken

by ABrighterDarkness



Series: PoTS Stocking Exchange [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Steve Rogers Has PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:01:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21730471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABrighterDarkness/pseuds/ABrighterDarkness
Summary: Steve quickly realized that this wasn’t like his previous experiences with pain.  He wasn’t able to shut it out and shove it into the mental compartment like he usually did with injuries.  He was still so raw and on edge, weeks later.  His body was healed but his mind wouldn’t let it go.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: PoTS Stocking Exchange [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626244
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60
Collections: POTS (18+) Stony Stocking 2019, Stevie just needs a hug🥺





	Broken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [athletiger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/athletiger/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [athletiger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/athletiger/pseuds/athletiger) in the [stony_stocking_2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/stony_stocking_2019) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> 1) athletiger#9029
> 
> 2) i. bondage during sex (rope, chains; general helplessness)  
> ii. breathplay  
> iii. soulmate au
> 
> 3) i. Steve and Tony are in the medical profession (doctor, surgeon, ambulance driver) and are idiots pining for each other. The Avengers bet on when they will get together, and where. Obviously they confess in an elevator.  
> ii. Steve or Tony gets kidnapped and tortured, the other person finds him. Established relationship, caring after aftermath of torture (PTSD, nightmares, shaking?)  
> iii. Steve is president, Tony is his right hand man (and also cock warmer during meetings because Steve gets bored. It might be punishment too.)
> 
> 4) DNW: infidelity, cheating
> 
> 5) I'm not that picky? Anything goes beside my dnws - I'm pretty versatile (couldn't put that on my tag list). Any other prompts and inspiration from my tag list not in my prompts.  
> Non-Ao3 stuff: hugs, love, and baking recipes with low sugar :)

Pain wasn’t something that Steve Rogers was unaccustomed to. His youth had been spent in a near constant state of it in one form or another, either due to his multitude of illnesses or his inability to stay out of back alley fights. The process of receiving the serum had been a level of pain that easily surpassed even the worst Brooklyn winter or the strongest blow to the gut. And then during the war...well, suffice to say that pain was an old friend even before his seventy year ice induced hibernation.

Since the serum pain had taken on a different meaning, in that it held very little meaning for the most part. With his rapid healing most hurts only sidelined him for a couple hours, maybe a day at best without leaving even the most minimal scarring as proof that anything had even happened. Steve had trained his brain to forget the injuries as rapidly as they healed. He didn’t  _ actually _ forget. Another gift of the serum made that impossible. But he could pretend and did so successfully for the most part.

But this. This was different. The same serum that could be credited for healing and fixing every one of those illnesses he’d been born with, that always ensured he was back to peak health in time for the next great battle...it was as much his enemy as those who’d captured him. He had begun to grow resentful of the serum’s ability to continuously stave off death.

He had lost track of time here. Something that he’d previously thought impossible. But apparently an unending cycle of deprivation and constant pain that only vaguely healed in time for more to be inflicted had skewed his internal clock. He was pretty sure he hadn’t told them anything. Not that he could clearly recall the questions that had been asked to begin with. He remembered the first few days, however long ago that might have been, he had responded to the demands with a level of belligerence and sarcasm that would have made Tony proud.

Tony.

A sound that might have been a sob worked its way out of him causing a spasm of pain to echo through his battered body. It was deep enough that his vision darkened and Steve reached for it eagerly. Even a temporary respite was welcome. Maybe, just maybe he’d luck out and the serum would decide to let him go this time.

Steve bit back a desperate groan when he awoke, his wish clearly ungranted. He nearly opened his eyes before remembering himself and forcing his body to still and senses to stretch outward. The pain was still nearly overwhelming enough to make the process difficult but even after...days? Weeks? of torture, subbornness was one of Steve Rogers’ most identifying personality traits. 

He almost frowned. He wasn’t in the dark box of a room that he had been held in the entire duration of his capture. There was a glare of light leaking through his closed eyelids. Something new didn’t generally bode well for him. But then...he was also lying down on something soft and his limbs were unrestrained. Someone had clothed him at some point. And beeping? And that smell. It was familiar. He tentatively stretched his memory to try to place the sudden onslaught of new sensories. 

Hospital. That’s what it was. The pungent antiseptic smell, the beeping of the monitors, the softness of the hospital bed. 

His breath caught in his chest and he was so afraid to open his eyes and find himself back in that hole. Steve attempted to move his limbs to test how free he actually was and they all shifted ever so slightly--and so very painfully--as instructed except for his left arm. There was something pinning his left arm. Something...warm?

Swallowing heavily and wincing at the raw ache of it, Steve slowly opened his eyes. He had been mostly correct in his guesses. He was in a hospital bed and those were the monitors beeping annoyingly. It was painfully bright, even with the lights dimmed but after so long of that blindfold and the damp, dark room, he supposed that was to be expected. Finally, he allowed his eyes to drop to his pinned left hand and the sight drew an unbidden sob.

_ Tony _ .

He was asleep, slouched forward in his chair at Steve’s bedside, his head resting on his folded arm, pressed lightly against Steve’s thigh with his other hand gripped around Steve’s wrist with surprising strength. 

He was safe. The thought alone was painful in the weight of the relief he felt. Felt but didn’t know how to believe. 

“Steve,” Tony’s voice was urgent and relieved and everything that Steve had desperately needed to hear again. Rough, calloused hands were gently stroking his face, mindful of the broken, still-healing skin. “You’re safe, sweetheart. I’m here. You’re safe.”

Steve hadn’t realized until that moment that his entire body was trembling. Shaking with the force of his sobs and his relief. The movement was jarring enough to lace the relief with fresh pain but, for once, he welcomed it because pain meant that he was really here. This was real.

“T-Tony,” He finally managed. 

“Right here,” Tony responded, settling carefully onto the bed near Steve’s hip. “I’m right here and I’m going anywhere until you’re cleared to go too.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, urgently needing to get the words out.

“Uh uh,” Tony shook his head. “There’s nothing you need to apologize for. You focus on healing, now. That’s the only thing you need to be worrying about.” Steve shook his head as much as he could, which wasn’t much at all. But he could feel the darkness pulling on him again and forced his eyes wide in panic. He didn’t want the darkness again. He didn’t want to lose this. Tony laced their fingers together, looking near tears himself and leaned forward to press at soft kiss to Steve’s forehead. “Sleep now. I’ll be here when you wake up. Promise.”

Steve felt himself losing the battle against it and exhaled shakily. Tony promised. Promised he was safe now. He could trust Tony’s promise.

He wasn’t any more coherent the next time he surfaced. It didn’t hurt as badly this time. The long stretches of uninterrupted sleep must be giving the serum time to undo the damage done to his body. That was good, he guessed. Steve stretched his senses again before he could allow himself to reveal his awakened state. 

There were voices around him. 

“How’s he doing?” Familiar. Feminine. Steve couldn’t place it, not with as fuzzy as his mind was. 

“Physically better,” Tony. That was Tony. Steve would know that voice anywhere which meant that he really was safe. He hadn’t dreamed it. “They’re guessing that the healing factor should have him fixed up within the next few days.”

“That’s the easy part,” the woman said softly.

“Yeah,” Tony agreed with a heavy sigh. “He’s gonna need us all, Nat. As much as I would love to be able to, I don’t think this is something I’m going to be able to pull him back up from on my own.”

Oh, Natasha. 

“We’ll be there,” Natasha promised.

“You’ve read the report?” Tony asked, somewhat rhetorically considering who he was speaking to.

Natasha’s breathing was shaky, “Yeah. Tony...what they did to him…”

“I know,” Tony quickly interrupted. “I know. I’m not going to push anything. Having him home and safe is what’s important right now.”

Steve let his eyes open and immediately met Natasha’s before dropping them in shame at the expression he found. He didn’t want pity. What good did pity do anyone?

“Hey,” she said softly, approaching the opposite side of his bed from Tony. Her small hand curled gently into his, squeezing softly. “It’s good to see those pretty blues again. How’re you feeling?”

Steve frowned and made to speak before clearing his throat and trying again. The second attempt was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a cup and straw in his face. He automatically flinched away from it before he could stop himself. His face heated and he awkwardly accepted the offered drink.

Avoiding both sets of eyes, he shrugged uncomfortably and answered Natasha’s question, “Alive.”

“Something I will never stop being grateful for,” Tony admitted quietly. “How’s the pain?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Steve said with another shrug. Truthfully, he wasn’t anywhere near pain free but it was at the most tolerable level it’d been in sometime so he certainly didn’t have room to complain. He frowned and glanced up between the pair, “How long?”

He watched Natasha and Tony exchange glances before Tony’s dropped to their linked hands, swallowing painfully.

Natasha eyed Tony for a moment longer before meeting Steve’s attention head on, “You’ve been here for four days now. Before that...Twenty-two days.”

Steve rolled the number around in his mind, attempting to see where it lined up with his failed tries at time keeping. He didn’t know where it measured. Slowly he nodded in comprehension. “What happened?”

“We got the bogus Hydra call,” Natasha sighed. “It should have been routine and we split up to cover more ground. When we regrouped you were gone. Your shield and your comm unit were left sitting on a shelf.”

“It took a long time to even find a trail to follow,” Tony said, voice heavy. “We got to you as soon as we could, Steve. As soon as we knew where they had you, we were on the jet to come get you.”

“I know,” Steve said quietly. And he did. Despite all of the uncertainty of those three weeks, Steve never doubted that his team would find him. Only questioned if they would find him or just his broken body. He shook the morbid thought from his mind, pointedly not thinking about the various ways his captors had attempted to break him. “When can I go home?”

“Probably tomorrow,” Tony replied. “The serum’s doing a good job at patching you up. You should be physically stable enough to come home tomorrow.”

Steve nodded in understanding. He could feel the pull of sleep again and hated it. He hated the vulnerability of it. Something of his anxiety must have shown on his face because Natasha squeezed his hand to gain his attention. When he looked up she smiled softly, “We’ve got the watch, Cap. It’s safe. Get some sleep.”

Somehow those were the words his subconscious needed to hear because he was swiftly pulled under once again.

Tony’s assessment turned out to be correct. They released Steve the following day. Tony and Natasha were there to take him back to the tower and help get him settled back into normal life. There was something profoundly relieving about being able to just sit on the couch in the common area again. 

Steve quickly realized that this wasn’t like his previous experiences with pain. He wasn’t able to shut it out and shove it into the mental compartment like he usually did with injuries. He was still so raw and on edge, weeks later. His body was healed but his mind wouldn’t let it go.

Like the one morning when Tony stumbled into the kitchen and automatically wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist and draped over his back. Something so, so simple. Something that Tony had done dozens of times before. Yet Steve found himself across the room, back to a wall, hunched defensively before he realized that he had even moved. And Tony. Steve cringed shamefully at the memory of Tony’s bloodied nose. Tony had refused to hear any apologies saying that he should have known better considering his own past experiences with capture and torture. 

It seemed as though nothing was left untainted from those twenty-two days in hell. The gym was too big, to open. Team dinners that they had attempted were too loud, too overwhelming. He flinched from even Tony’s touch. They had even stolen his ability to seek out and enjoy intimacy with Tony. Not that Tony had pressed the matter. Tony had been unfailingly patient with the mess that Steve had become. 

Steve glared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. As usual, his body held no indication that anything had ever happened. Not a lingering bruise. Not a single scar. His jaw clenched tightly and he felt a rush of furious rage sweep through him and a shower of glass rained over the Steve and the countertop when his fist shattered the offending image. Time seemed to skip and next thing he knew he was kneeling in a pile of broken glass and various debris on the bathroom floor and Tony was crouched a foot away in front of him.

“Steve?” Tony’s steady voice called softly. “Are you back with me, sweetheart?”

“Tony,” he gasped out, realizing suddenly that he was crying.

“I’m here,” Tony said, continuing the quiet, steady tone. “Can I touch you?”

“Please,” Steve nodded urgently.

Tony moved forward slowly, mindful of the shards of glass and porcelain, his hands came to rest lightly on Steve’s forearms. When Steve automatically tensed, Tony froze but didn’t withdraw the contact. Steve slowly relaxed into the touch and Tony slowly slid his hands up over his arms to his shoulders, continuing the slow glide upwards until he could cup each side of Steve’s head in gentle hands. “Talk to me, sweetheart,” he encouraged.

“I  _ hate _ this,” Steve muttered. “I  _ hate it. _ I can’t keep doing this, Tony. They took it  _ all _ from me. They  _ broke _ me. I can’t...I  _ can’t _ .”

Tony tugged gently until Steve’s forehead came to rest in the curve of his neck and shoulder. Something in Steve released then and he crumpled forward into Tony, arms wrapping around his waist and clinging tightly as though he might disappear if Steve gave as much as an inch. Tony’s arms wrapped just as snugly around Steve’s shoulders, holding firmly as Steve gave into the onslaught of emotion and, for the first time since he woke up in that hospital bed, fell apart sobbing.

“That’s it, sweetheart, let it go. Give it to me,” Tony murmured. “Let it out. I know it’s rough right now. I know it is. Believe me, I understand. But we will get through this.”

“Stubbornness isn’t gonna get me through this one, Tony,” Steve managed regretfully.

“Maybe not on its own,” Tony agreed, arms tightening around Steve’s shoulders. He shifted slightly and pressed a soft kiss to Steve’s temple. “But that’s what I’m here for. That’s what Nat and the team is here for. You’re not fighting this alone sweetheart. We’ll be here every step of the way.” Steve swallowed thickly but nodded gratefully, relieved beyond words for the sentiment. 

Tony carefully detangled them, making sure to slide his hands down to Steve’s forearms rather than grabbing, and pulled them both to their feet. Steve finally caught sight of the destroyed bathroom and gaped in mortification. “Tony...I--”

“Don’t worry your pretty head about it,” Tony interrupted. “Everything in here but you is replaceable. Plus, a good demolition is good for the soul. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Tony turned to lead the way out of the bathroom and Steve stopped him, covering the hand on his forearm with his free hand. When Tony looked back questioningly Steve swallowed heavily and squeezed his hand gently. “I--I haven’t said it, I know but...Thank you. For--for being here. For being you.”

Tony’s expression softened and he stepped back towards Steve, slowly leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Anything for you, Steve. Anything. No thanks or apologies necessary.”

Steve closed his eyes and let himself soak in the words and tender affection. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Tony smiled softly before tugging gently on his arm again. “Come on, sweetheart.” 


End file.
